Pink and Red Day
by mygyps17
Summary: It's Valentine's Day and Clark asks Chloe for advice on what to get a special someone. Naturally, she assumes he's talking about Lana Lang.


**A/N: **Hey guys it's been a while. I realize I haven't updated Couple's Fair yet, but don't worry. It's coming;) I just wanted to give you Chlarkers this Valentine's gift; show you I haven't forgotten about ya;)

~~~{(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)}~~~

"Chloe, can I ask you something."

"Sure Clark, what's up?" I answer automatically while going through my locker. I put up my algebra book and trade it for my much heavier American History book.

Tomorrow's yucky pink and red day, otherwise known as Valentine's Day; but I'm sure my best friend, Clark Kent, isn't going to ask me to be his. He's only got eyes for one girl; almost literally. It's like his eyes were _made_ for one purpose and one purpose only. To stare at _her_.In fact, he's staring at her right now.

Lana Lang.

She's available again; but I'm sure it won't be for long. Lots of people want her; people as in boys and girls; even though the girls know she doesn't swing that way. At least, I don't _think _she swings that way. I wish she did though. That way she'd be permanently unavailable to Clark. He could admire her still, but he'd know there was no way he could ever have her. Then he'd spend less time pining after her and maybe see that there are other girls around. Me in particular.

"I uh…I have this friend," he starts off. My eyebrows lift, but not because I'm intrigued. I'm just trying _really_ hard not to roll my eyes.

Here we go.

"What about this…_friend_?" I ask as if I'm _actually _interested.

"Well, he uh… he sort of has this friend. They're really, really, close. And um, she's a girl; and he likes her…but she doesn't know it."

I _do_ roll my eyes this time. Lana _does_ know that Clark likes her. _Everybody_ knows that he likes her, but he could never do anything about it before because she was taken. So, he tried to be her friend, and I wouldn't say they were really, really close the way he just implied before, but they were as close as could be considering Lana had an insanely jealous boyfriend.

Well, Lana and Whitney are no longer together so Clark's free to make a move on his close _friend_.

"Uh huh, go on," I egg him on rather than bust him for using the "I have this friend" line. I can understand him not wanting to come out and ask me for advice on him and Lana. I've made it verbally known to Clark that I'm getting tired of hearing about his love for Lana. It simultaneously bores and frustrates me.

"Well, my friend wants to know what he should do for the girl he likes tomorrow because it's Valentine's Day, and I was just wondering if you could help me."

"Help you, or help your friend?" My eyebrows shoot up. Man, Clark sucks at lying.

"Um, you know, help me help him." He fidgets.

My eyebrows can't go up any higher; but they definitely try. Who's he think he's kidding?

"So, are you gonna help?" he asks as he shifts from left foot to right foot, then back to left foot nervously. Could he be any more eager?

I slam my locker shut as I come to my decision.

"Sure," I shrug; though I don't plan on actually helping him. I've decided to go for sabotage. Hey, I'm not a bad person; but I'm so tired of this Lana crap; and if he can't see through what I'm doing, then he doesn't know enough about her _to_ be with her…and maybe he'll realize that.

"Great!" Clark grins excitedly; and I throw my plans for sabotage out the window. I can't do it. Call me soft if you want, but Clark Kent is first and foremost my best friend. I can't trick him, or do anything to hurt his chances with the girl he's unhealthily in love with. Even if it is for his own good. He should learn that on his own. Maybe the lesson will stick with him longer if he does.

"So, how can I help your friend?" I ask.

Clark grabs my books from me and begins to walk me to class. He usually doesn't. I usually carry them myself. Apparently, he's more excited than I even imagined.

"I just need a few ideas."

I'm tempted to ask him if the ideas are for him or his "friend;" but I let it go.

"Okay, like what?"

"Well, my friend was thinking about sending her a valentine gram. What do you think?"

What do I think? I _think_ Lana's gonna get about four dozen of those cards with the red heart-shaped lollipop attached to it. Why give her another?

"That's overrated; totally unoriginal. Everyone's doing it. I mean, how much does your friend like this girl?"

"Well, it's hard to describe," he answers as if he's truly thinking about it. He's not fooling anyone. I know he's madly in love with "this girl."

"Does he think she's pretty and just wants to be friends? Because if that's the case, a valentine gram is fine. I mean, it's only a dollar; but if he really likes her. He should get her something else," I tell him, grabbing my books back from him.

"Like what?"

I have no idea why he likes Lana so much. Shouldn't he know what kinds of things to get her? It's not that hard to figure out.

"Get her a book,"-

"She's got lots of books already."

"Fine, get her a pink sweater, or something."

"A _pink _sweater?" He wrinkles his eyebrows and takes my books back from me as if he _just_ realized that I'd swiped them just moments before. "Are you sure?"

"Sure," I shrug back. Lana would love a pink sweater.

"Well, ok then….see ya tomorrow," he replies hesitantly before walking off slowly.

I roll my eyes at his back. The guy is just too damn clueless for his own good.

The rest of my day is a blur. So is the next morning. I nearly forgot about Pink and Red Day until I step onto school grounds. There's icky red and pink and hearts and flowers all over the place.

I think I'm gonna be sick.

I look for Clark, not really wanting to see what he got Lana but kinda wanting to see it at the same time, just to approve of it.

He's standing in front of my locker, looking extremely nervous and a feel a little sliver of déjà vu set in. This is where I saw him last, and he was looking just as nervous yesterday as he is today. The poor guy. He probably visited at least a dozen department stores in the mall trying to find the perfect pink sweater for Lana.

"Hi Chloe," he greets me, anxiously shifting from one foot to the other.

"Hi," I halfway smile back before nudging him to the side so I can get into my locker.

Then he pulls out a red bag from behind his back and shoves it into my hands. "Here," is all he says.

I take it and roll my eyes at him. Seriously? He wants me to check the gift before he gives it to Lana? This is not an assignment for the torch where I have to proofread his work. It's a Valentine's gift! But I open it up and pull the gift out anyway. It's a pink sweater. Big surprise. He got the size wrong though. Lana's a bit smaller than that.

"It's nice, Clark," I say a bit unenthusiastically before stuffing it back into the bag.

He frowns as I hold the bag out to him. "You don't like it," he concedes with a heavy sigh.

"It doesn't really matter if _I _like it, Clark. I'm sure Lana'll love it." I shrug.

Clark gives me this lost look, like he's confused and utterly devastated. I feel sorry for him immediately, though I don't exactly understand what could possibly be wrong with him.

"But…it's…it's for you," he says.

My eyes widen. If this is a joke, it's not funny. Why would he…How could he possibly think I'd like a pink sweater?

"You got me a _pink _sweater, Clark!"

He bristles immediately, no longer looking like a starving, kicked, newborn puppy. "_You_ told me that's what you wanted!"

"I would_ never_ tell you to get me a pink sweater!" I shake my head at him. He's gone crazy.

"Well you did. I remember because first you suggested I get you a book, and then when I told you that you have lots of books already, you told me to get you a pink sweater, and I knew that wasn't right so I asked you if you were sure and you said yes, so I just figured you wanted to try something new!"

I'm so surprised he didn't run out of breathe or turn blue in the face after that long ass monologue. Actually, I'm a bit impressed; but I will never admit it out loud. Instead, I take the time to realize that we're not alone in the school hallway. We have an audience.

It's just what I need.

"Clark, you didn't ask me what _I_ wanted. You asked me what to get for a friend who was crushing on some girl," I say a bit quieter so that everyone won't hear.

His jaw drops, and he's giving me this look; like he's _disappointed_ in me. "Chloe, I started off me sentence with the classic, "I have this friend…" line. You should've known I was talking about me!"

"Well, yeah, I figured that part out, but"-

"So why'd you tell me to get you a pink sweater, then get mad when I got you a pink sweater?" All around us, our fast growing audience begins to nod their head and stare at me, waiting for me to answer Clark's question.

This isn't fair! How the hell was I supposed to know he was talking about me and not Lana? How was I supposed to know that….wait a minute…he was talking about _me_ and not Lana? He asked for advice on what to get _me_ for Valentine's Day, and not Lana. He likes _me_ and not Lana! When the heck did that happen? Why didn't I notice? I shouldn't be arguing with him over a stupid pink sweater… because he got it for _me_ and not for Lana! No wonder why it was too big for her. He bought it for me _and _he got the size right; which means he's been paying attention to me, real close attention.

"That's for me?" I ask him, pointing at the bag.

He narrows his eyes at me, understandably suspicious because we're arguing over the fact that the contents of that red gift bag are _indeed_ for me.

"Can I have it?"

He doesn't give it up at first, just stares at me even longer.

Then I say, "Please," and he hands the bag over slowly, poised as if he'll snatch it back the very moment I indulge in a little "funny business."

I put the bag in between my legs, take off my burgundy blazer, put it in my locker quickly because all I was wearing under it is a very tight and cleavage revealing white cami, and then I put the sweater on. I'm so glad I decided to wear blue jeans today instead of a patterned skirt.

"How do I look?" I ask Clark.

He cocks his head to the side, almost as if he can't decide on whether or not he should lie to me.

He doesn't have to. I answer for him. "Pink's not really my color, is it?"

He shrugs. "It's…different. You really should've asked for something else." And before I can tell him that I didn't know he was talking about me, he adds, "So what'd you get me?"

Thank God, the bell rings and I have to get to class, and thank God again that Clark and I don't share the first three classes together because I didn't get him anything; not even a Valentine gram.

Crap! What am I going to do? I didn't bring much money with me, and even if I did, I really don't have enough time to run out and get him something.

Ugh! This is so stupid. If Clark wanted to exchange valentine's gifts this year, he should've said something! I would've at least gotten him a card!

"Last call for Valentine's grams." Mrs. Posey, my homeroom teacher, announces before we've all even sat down. I raise my hand immediately. Clark's gonna kill me, but he's gonna get a Valentine gram. If I could, I'd get him two, but like I mentioned before. I didn't really bring much money with me today.

Lunch comes way faster than normal. It seems as if each class lasts only a quarter of its normal time; probably because I'm not looking forward to lunch. Clark's gonna be there, and he'll have the Valentine gram, a gift I told him a person only buys for a friend because it's only a dollar.

God, if I could just relive yesterday.

I make it all the way to the front of the line, the spot just before you to pick up your lunch tray before I hear Clark call my name.

I pretend not to hear him. He's at the back of the line. That'll give me a few more minutes to think of something before I have to face him.

"Chloe!" Clark calls me again. I glance over my shoulder at him. He sounds as if he's getting closer. And he is. He's skipping everyone in front of him, even the football jocks.

They don't say anything to him, just watch him. Normally they would've stopped him and shoved him back to the end of the line, but not today.

I'm not surprised. With the look he's giving me, I wouldn't say anything if he skipped me either.

I don't get it. Why's he so upset? It's not like we've been dating since the sandbox days. We're not even dating_ now_! I shouldn't feel so guilty about not getting him something for Valentine 's Day.

But I do.

"What's this?" Clark questions, holding the gram out for me to see.

I pick up a tray for him and command him to load it. He does so automatically, but he's still holding the gram up for me to see.

"Chloe?"

"That, my friend, is Valentine gram." I answer distractedly as I pay for my meal and begin walking toward our table. Yes, we have a specific table that we sit at every day.

"I know what it is Chloe, but why'd you buy one for me? I thought you said"-

And that's when the idea hits me. I know exactly what to give Clark. I just really hope it's enough.

"It's not for you Clark," I say while snatching the cherry flavored lollipop from him, unwrapping it, and popping it into my mouth. "It's for me."

I sit down. He sits down right next to me instead of across from me like he normally does.

"So why'd you have it sent to me?"

"Because it would be really lame to send one to myself."

Clark frowns at me. Like he's thinking about how much sense that made. Then he shrugs. It must make a little sense and I begin to exhale little breaths of relief.

"So, where _is _my gift?"

"Oh, yeah, I nearly forgot." I pop the lollipop out of my mouth and before I can overthink it, I press my lips to his.

Yes, a kiss is what I've decided to give Clark for Valentine's Day.

I pull back when he doesn't seem to be responding. I can feel my cheeks going redder than this candy on a stick that I previously had in my mouth.

I guess he didn't like it.

But then I notice that Clark doesn't respond to me pulling back either. His eyes are still closed. He's just sitting there.

"Uh, Clark," I pat his arm, wondering what the hell is wrong with him.

Then he opens his eyes, and I swear, I _swea_r they're red for all of three seconds. He licks his bottom lip, and gives me this slow, lazy grin.

My heart stops. He is so damn sexy. I'm not used to that. I know, I've got a huge crush on him and I think he's so handsome, but he's mostly doing adorable puppy dog things to make me think he's cute. He never makes sexy manly faces. Ever.

He leans forward and I'm trapped. I don't even think about moving away. I know we're supposed to keep the PDA to a minimum at school, And I know that there are several teachers walking around, but the way Clark's looking at me, I just know we're gonna get some form of reprimanding. He looks as if he's going to take me right here, in front of all of our peers, and I would so let him.

I want to ask him if he's okay, Instinct is telling me that something's wrong, but my body is telling me to shut the hell up because whatever he's gonna do sure as hell won't_ feel _wrong.

And my body was right, so right.

Clark uses his teeth, gently pulling at my bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth.

I close my eyes. I really like the way that feels, a lot.

I kiss him back, best way I know how with one of my lips being captured; and it works out just fine. He seems to like it too because he pulls me to him, quite urgently. I'm so close to him; just one more little tug and I'll be sitting in his lap.

He ends the kiss abruptly, so abruptly that I automatically move my hand to straighten myself out thinking that a teacher or someone was nearby.

There's no need for it. He wasn't stopping. He simply wanted to press his lips to my ear.

"You taste so good," he whispers.

"It's um the candy." I offer weakly.

Next thing I know, I feel sick. Like I just spent two hours on the merry-go-round. I open my eyes and Clark actually has to right me because I'm swaying. What the hell just happened?

I blink a few times. We're in the girls' bathroom; the one closest to the cafeteria.

Clark's grinning at me, and I know he had something to do with it. I just don't care how because he's just taken off his shirt and all I can think is, Whoa. Happy Pink and Red Day to me.


End file.
